Page 39 of The Drifter

"Because I have the whole day," I said, "and I don't know what to do with it."

Nobody said anything.

"I got up this morning with nothing on my schedule. Nothing. For the first time I can remember." My voice did something on the last part and I let it. "And I sat on my sofa and looked out at that water and felt like a woman standing in the middle of a field. Wide open. Nothing coming at me from any direction. And it scared me so bad, I got in my car and drove to work."

Otis had gone very quiet, and I didn’t look at him. I never was going to.

"So," I said, and got my chin up. "You need boots. I need something to do with my hands. I'd take it as a kindness."

Clint pushed off that bell stand.

He came across the floor toward me, unhurried, in that walk that eats ground without ever seeming to be in a hurry to get anywhere.

He came to a stop.

Three feet.

I watched him do it. I watched him measure it. I saw the man calculate that distance and hold at exactly the line I had drawn without ever saying a word about it. He stopped there with his hands loose at his sides and looked down at me.

And I understood, standing there, that if I took one step forward, he wouldn’t move.

He would never close it. That distance was mine. He had handed it back to me and he was going to keep handing it back to me for as long as I stood in front of him. The only person who could ever cross those three feet was me.

Something happened in my body.

"Sasha," he said.

"Yes?"

"I'd be grateful for the company."

I said, "Okay."

It came out small. It came out in the voice I was born with, the one I don't use in that building. I heard it happen, and it was too late.

"Let me put my bag behind the desk," I said, and turned. My legs worked, which was a mercy.

Missy handed my tote across the counter with her whole face doing something she was going to pay for later.

"Not a word," I said.

"I didn't say anything."

"Your eyebrows said something."

I loved her. I have never wanted to fire anybody so badly in my life.

I turned around.

He was waiting by the doors, holding one door with his shoulder.

Not with a flourish. He'd just put himself against the door and made a space, and he stood in it, waiting on me.

Otis, from the bell stand, said, "Y'all, have a nice time, now."

"Otis, I will end you."

"Yes, ma'am."